Noses Worth Noticing
by Addai
Summary: Nathaniel/ Dalish PC.  One-shot drabble based on the Nathaniel Howe prompt "nose," with Tecla Adra.  An attempt to rile the commander backfires.


"You know, you have a really big nose."

The Commander of the Grey, an Orlesian Dalish woman named Tecla Adra, whirled and gave Nathaniel Howe a glare that could melt darkspawn flesh. Nathaniel belatedly recalled that she was a mage, and that riling mages could have unhealthy side effects. Still, he was pleased to see such a rise out of her. It was not one of his nobler qualities, but when people annoyed him, he liked to push back. The commander had been particularly withering in her upbraiding of him earlier that day, accusing him of breaking formation when all he had done was seek higher ground for a clearer shot, and he thought it time for a bit of payback. If he could do so while teasing her about something that people had always teased him about, so much the better for the irony. Anyway, the elf was way too uptight for her own good.

Nearby, the Legion dwarf Sigrun sat at the long communal dining table staring at them. The look on her face read "It was nice knowing you, Howe." The mage Anders sat a few chairs down trying to suppress laughter. A tense silence reigned while Nathaniel waited for the explosion he hoped would come- metaphorically speaking, of course. He was disappointed when Commander Adra simply turned, retrieved her meal, and took a seat across from Sigrun in silence.

Nathaniel frowned and glanced after the woman. So she was as stubborn as he was. He had to give her some grudging admiration for this. Her nose wasn't really that big, of course. If put to it, he would have called it _strong_. It was actually fitting on the commander's relatively tall, athletic frame. Not that he would ever admit he found her attractive, especially not when he was as angry with her as he was now. She wouldn't even give him the satisfaction of a good fight.

Sullenly Nate went to dish himself some stew and took a seat across from Anders, avoiding the mage's waggling eyebrows.

They all ate in silence for a time until Sigrun piped up. "You know, your nose is _really_ big, Nathaniel. _Really_ big."

"Do you have a point, Sigrun?" The jest wasn't nearly as effective when it was turned back on him, especially since it hadn't even had the effect on Commander Adra that he had hoped it would.

"No, no point." The silence resumed and then, after a few moments, Sigrun started again. "It's so big we could stand you on the Pilgrim's Path and use you to point the way to Denerim." The dwarf had an impish look on her face, something which Anders picked up immediately.

Grinning, the mage suggested, "You could put Dworkin's explosives up there and turn it into a cannon."

Sigrun giggled. "Or just have him blow snot on bandits! Isn't Grey Warden snot tainted? I bet it would work as a weapon." The two jesters were obviously just warming up.

Nathaniel's expression was hard. He had endured such taunts as a child, and having had to put up with a great deal of indignity since returning to Ferelden, his first impulse was to anger. It didn't help that he had asked for this drubbing and deserved it. Dimly he felt ashamed for having reduced himself to such a childish taunt in the first place. What would the commander think of him now?

He glanced at her and found that she was looking on in confusion. Nathaniel often thought that she seemed to be studying those around her, copying their mannerisms. She was not only an elf and Dalish, but Orlesian as well, and it was obvious she took her responsibilities seriously and was trying very hard to be proper in all her dealings. It was probably why she was so uptight. She appeared to be trying to figure out whether what was happening was okay or whether she should step in to stop it. Their eyes met and held for a few moments, then Nathaniel's demeanor cracked a bit. He did deserve this, after all.

Anders and Sigrun were busy discussing whether the army might adopt the "Howe honker," a new type of war bugle modeled after Nathaniel's nose, and how much coin they might make off the invention. "Yes, yes, and when we're out in camp you can use it to hang your laundry on," Nate interrupted them wryly. He then turned back to Tecla and gave her a small wink. The elf pursed her lips, but a moment later her expression softened and he thought he even saw a grin trying to break out.

For his own part, Nathaniel felt something in him move. It took him a moment to realize what he was feeling. In Kirkwall he was used to soldiers taking the mickey out of each other for anything and everything. It could be brutal, but it was clean, honest mockery among comrades and everyone got the same treatment. After learning what his father had done, Nathaniel Howe had not expected to feel clean ever again. He had never thought he would feel part of anything, never fit in enough to get an honest beating about his big nose. He would apologize to the commander later, but Nate was suddenly glad they both had noses worth noticing.


End file.
